


Should Know Better

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Dean Winchester, Collared Castiel (Supernatural), Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Force-Feeding, Gagged Sam Winchester, Gen, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Sam Winchester, Kidnapped Castiel (Supernatural), Kidnapped Sam Winchester, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Protective Dean Winchester, Rescue, Tied-Up Castiel (Supernatural), Tied-Up Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 21:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20767172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Someone decides Dean’s family should be his family, and abducts Sam and Cas right out of the bunker while Dean’s away.Nobody should expect to touch Dean’s brother and his angel and live, but clearly not everyone got the message.





	Should Know Better

It’ll be better this way, the stranger tells them.

He potters around, taking things down off various shelves, whistling a lighthearted tune, ignoring the muffled grunts of protest Sam makes through the gag as he strains to break free of the restraints keeping him in the chair.

They have to admit, Sam’s brother was not taking good care of them. And yes, they’re probably getting off on the wrong foot, but as they get used to each other, as they learn they can trust him, that’ll improve.

If they just wait and see, in a few months, it’ll be like they were always his and Dean will be just a memory of worse times that will eventually fade entirely.

He stirs the ingredients into a jug, and grabs a funnel and Sam screams as he pours it down Cas’s throat, and then holds the angel down on the table as he fits until he’s unconscious.

Angels, the stranger says. They have the potential to be difficult, act out, so it’s always best to start with them as you mean to go on.

++

Dean has no idea who the guy is. He watches the security footage again and again until he’s sure he’s got everything of use from it.

Doesn’t know how the fucker got in, because he just appears on the stairs and then casually walks down and into their home like he belongs there.

Cas sees him first, and Dean had expected the guy to get tossed out on his ear.

But it’s him that does the tossing, a single shove sending Cas crashing against the room, into the far wall, and the angel doesn’t get up again.

Sam’s next, fighting for all he’s worth as the guy carries him, like he’s five foot and seventy pounds, up the stairs and out of Dean’s sight.

He comes back for Cas, lifts him bridal carry and gently takes him as well, and walks their angel up and out of the bunker and, Dean bets he thinks, out of Dean’s life.

But the heavy tyre tread outside their front door clues Dean in on a side panel van - he’d need something like that anyway to kidnap two people - and hacking the local traffic cameras gets him a make, model, colour, plates and direction.

It’s hard work, tracking the vehicle as it heads west, but that guy has his family.

Two hours later, Dean has his location, and he’s ready to go get them back.

++

The guy who is clearly not just a guy has them in his basement, in a house set back from the road, behind a high fence, which allowed him to carry or force his victims downstairs with the minimum of attention.

Dean’s using the universal bullets that he and Cas and Rowena have been working on, and he hates that he’s testing them for the first time with Sam and Cas’s lives at stake, but he doesn’t know what the fuck has them.

If the bullets don’t work, he has his angel blade; either way, he’s getting his family and taking them home.

And then he hears a cry of pain, and he knows that’s Sam, and there’s no time for sneaking. He throws himself at the basement door, crashes through, and finds the guy trying to force food into Sam’s mouth, while his brother fights that, fights being tied to a chair, and Cas rages against a set of chains keeping him on his knees on the other side of the room, with a collar glowing angrily around his neck.

He has a clear shot and he takes it, and the guy turns to him with quite the surprised look on his face as if the possibility of Dean tracking them down and coming to take his family back had just never occurred to him.

Dean doesn’t know why. By now, there can’t be anybody who thinks he will ever give up on his family or not use extreme fucking prejudice on the people who’ve hurt them.

And their new bullets work.

++

He gets a disjointed fucked up tale from his brother and their angel later, as Sam holds an ice pack to his shoulder - Sam says wrenched, Dean thinks partial dislocation, but his little brother’s being stubborn about it - and Dean picks at the spelled lock on Cas’s collar.

It clicks loose, and the angel rolls his shoulders in a way Dean’s seen him do before and suspects Cas just had himself a good wing stretch.

Dean lets Sam get to the part about the guy collaring Cas while he was drugged and then deciding Sam had to be hungry and shoving half a bowl of puréed mush down his throat, and then leans in on his brother as he’s passing him to put the collar in a warded box.

“Three,” he says, and pulls up and back, and Sam gives a broken, cut off scream as Dean pops his shoulder back where it should be.

Cas’s hand is on Sam’s cheek a moment later, sending healing Grace flowing through him.

“Asshole,” Sam says.

“I said three,” Dean mutters.

Cas rolls his eyes. “I still don’t know how he got in.”

Neither does Dean, and that troubles him more than he knows.

He dials the wards to maximum that night, and settles down in a chair in the war room at the foot of the stairs, until Ketch can join them the next day and help figure out how that kidnapping bastard was able to just waltz in and steal Dean’s family.

He wakes up a couple of hours later, to find Sam dozing in a chair opposite, and Cas sitting in another nearby, legs tucked under himself as he reads what looks like a Spenser novel.

“He’s very noble,” Cas says, without looking up.

“That was in the stacks?” He sounds exhausted even to himself, it all just telling on him now, his head reaching for normality, reassurance, even when he’s not sure he’s entirely awake.

“The town library,” Cas says. “Sam helped me get a card. We’re alright, Dean. You came and got us and brought us home, and we’re here and we’re _alright_. You can sleep.”

So he does.

In the morning, when he wakes up properly, he’s in his own bed, wearing sleep pants and a light tee, and he can smell coffee and the start of breakfast.

Yeah. They’re home and they’re alright.

And they’re his.


End file.
